I am without myself almost every day. I walk towards and away from this, all at once. My steps are noise blanketing the quietness of a harmless emptiness I carry everywhere. Still and firm, faith washes ashore my disbelieving skin. I am impossible to water; my thirst is yet to be quenched.
Music to my vulnerable ears eases in and finds solace in a hollow corner I sometimes mistake for a soul. And in that corner, love grows it becomes humiliatingly filling.
I find myself awake at hours of the night unmistakably silent and anticipating. I find pieces of myself stranded in the dark and I rarely reach out and grab them anymore. The pursuit of definition as I have come to believe, is a sterile one. I am without myself after all.
My mindfulness is as elusive as my sleep. Come night time and an overwhelming dosage of anxiety rests it’s head on my chest. I am left weighed down by nothing and everything to ever exist. So I press my head deeper into the pillow and I drown myself in infinite thought. My breath softens and my words lose courage every time I come up for clarity. What does one do with finite nights and infinite possibility? How does one choose a single path, one life to account for an unbiased immeasurable existence? In that matter, there is one finite answer: I do not know.
I trust so little the aptitude of humans. I find it unconventional to stick to one belief every day. I shiver facing an ironic reality that change is necessary and inevitable. Change in all it’s forms is as terrifying as it is magnificent. I love with every regenerating cell in me the continuity of change. But I loathe how things never remain the same.
Walking on a tight rope, I challenge myself to not expect anything to lean on. I choose everyday to lose faith in my surroundings and detach myself from the illusion of eternity. I live each day reminding myself that I myself am a walking breathing example of entropy.
But I am a hypocrite.
I leap at any hint of divinity. I am spellbound by beauty and it’s repetition across the ages. I savor moments as rare as they come as though I caught infinity while it wasn’t looking. I fall uncontrollably in love and I allow myself the pleasure of delusion.
From where I am, whether I fall or stand tall; there really is no difference. From where I am, I live in many worlds. In some I care, in others I don’t. The fault in my brain is mended in the form of a heart. Maybe a balance exists linking and pushing my worlds apart. I carry it all with me, and I lay still on my back. I am miles away alone flaring a single match in the dark.
Maybe when you see that, your universe will finally have its light.
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Uplifting Letters 